


You Lied

by ksalterego



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Mind Meld, Oral Sex, Pon Farr, Porn with Feelings, no really. it's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksalterego/pseuds/ksalterego
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock bought into that whole stupid Vulcan practice of being secretive about shit (sexual practices) that had the potential to fucking kill him.  So Kirk may have lied - well, implied, actually - to <strike>get into Spock's pants</strike> save Spock's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Lied

Kirk staggered blindly back to his quarters after that intensely mind-blowing and unnervingly world-bending conversation with Bones...still not entirely certain he was fully recovered when he got there and so a shot of Scotty's best was definitely in order.

Make that two.

Fuck.

 _Spock_.

Not in that order.

Well, okay, maybe in that order.

Fine. Yes, in that order.

 _Fuck_.

Kirk spent the next eighteen minutes waiting for his body to metabolize the results of Scotty's exceptionally efficient distiller.

Spock.

Fucking Vulcans and their fucking secretive sexual practices.

And just... _fuck_ Spock for buying into that whole stupid Vulcan practice of being secretive about fucking _shit_ (sexual practices) that had the potential to fucking _kill_ him.

It took twelve minutes for Kirk to work through the shock and the anger and the disbelief (and maybe just a little fear-and-panic), and a further six minutes to come up with a cunning plan.

\-----

There was only one thing in the universe that could have pulled Spock from the depths of meditation in the midst of the situation he was currently enduring. Or, more accurately, one person.

"Hey, Spock. Whatcha doing?"

His Captain's voice was soothing blue ice across his heated skin and he turned to the sound of it against the astutely panicked and very loud advice of his logic. He shivered once before he actually opened his eyes.

_Holy fuck._

Spock spared a moment to wonder at that shocked, unchecked thought, which was wholly resonant of _his Captain_. Who was dripping wet and largely naked – the exception being the regulation hand towel he held imperfectly low over his groin with one splayed hand.

Jim thumbed back over a shoulder with his free hand at their shared bathroom. "Laundry's backed up. No towels. You got any in here I can borrow?"

Spock fought – he _fought_ – the voice from the back of his head that filled his mind with 'me,' and 'use me', and 'I will be your towel' and 'beautiful gorgeous mineMINEMINENOWTAKENOW'.

"Spock?"

There was concern in Jim's voice and he wondered – oh...

Spock stepped back from where he had Jim pressed up against the bulkhead with hands on his shoulders. It was a small step, but he counted it as a win because stepping back from his unclothed _t'hy'la_ by any measure was not something any Vulcan would voluntarily do.

And now he understood why.

Jim's cool human skin alleviated the heat coursing through his veins. His clean scent stilled the urgency, calmed him, grounded him, even as it ensnared him further. Only Spock's sense of duty, his respect for his Captain, kept him from falling on the man and using him to quench the fire that grew closer and hotter every minute.

Another "Spock?" retrieved his oddly wandering (specifically, southward) attention and Spock looked up to meet open blue eyes that held nothing but concern. Also, he still had hands on toned, muscular shoulders and the superficial psychic spill was a perfect echo to what he saw in Jim's eyes. Concern.

Spock removed his hands from his Captain but found he couldn't step back any further. He clenched his hands into fists to help keep from exploring...

"Hey, what's going on?"

 _That_ tone he knew well enough to know that Jim was up to something, but he wasn't sure he really cared at this point. The sight, scent and sound of Jim this close at this time was difficult to think around. It nearly broke him, but Spock managed to return to his meditation mat and sink to the floor.

\-----

Kirk watched his robed XO step away from him, slowly, jerkily, in a daze. Spock returned to his meditation mat without once removing his eyes from Kirk, and it looked like a painfully hard act for him to perform. Spock didn't maintain eye contact, but his eyes roved over Kirk's exposed body constantly, possessively, and Kirk began to grow hard under his own hand from that heated regard.

Well, okay, plus the inherent arousal Spock's touch usually caused. The fact that Spock had touched him skin to skin was just different enough from their usual ( _seriously?_ ) clothed contact – which he could (and did) totally control himself and his thoughts, thank you very much, during - that he was pretty much happy that he had opted for at least the hand towel at this stage of the proceedings.

And never mind the whole possessive as fuck shove-Kirk-up-against-the-nearest-wall part of things, which, _shit_ , total hard-on because, fantasy come to life...

\-----　

Spock watched his human watch him, watched the flush that spread from his neck, up to his cheeks and down across his chest. He had smelled Jim's arousal just before he moved away, and now he saw the physical evidence under Jim's own hand as it tightened nearly imperceptibly on his growing penis.

It was a puzzle.

Jim had never exhibited signs of arousal from physical contact prior to this moment. Why would that suddenly change? And did he care? All that really mattered was that it was happening now, at this moment, this very important moment in Spock's life.

Spock felt his already fast heartbeat increase when Jim slowly pushed off the wall and came toward him. And his heart nearly stopped in his side when Jim kneeled in front of him, leaned forward far enough to balance himself with the outstretched fingers of one hand on the floor, other hand still holding the ridiculous scrap of cloth over his genitals. Every muscle in his human's body was alive with beautiful, graceful movement as he held there, poised and ready. Spock wondered what Jim was waiting for.

"Talk to me," Jim said softly, but underlying the words was a command.

"Captain-"

"Yeah, call me that again tonight and I'll fucking kick your ass back to the Bermuda Triangle. Got it?"

"Yes. Jim."

"Talk." It was an order, but his voice still held a gentle concern. It was puzzling, as Spock had heard Jim use this tone many times with many people, but never with himself. He was generally after something when he used it, and Spock couldn't make sense of all this.

"Jim. I am not entirely in control."

Spock's eyes wandered again, and when he finally dragged them up to meet Jim's gaze, Jim smiled warmly. "I noticed that. Tell me why."

It was unthinkable not to answer a question from – so many layers of duty and friendship and caring and - Spock couldn't separate them all out to make sense of them. He answered, uncertain which layer he was responding to. " _Pon farr_ is upon me. I do not have long."

Jim nodded understanding, and Spock struggled for control against the draw of such accord...how could it be real?

Jim leaned back on his heels and Spock focused in on the muscles of his thighs and abdomen as he shifted and settled and Spock leaned forward as Jim moved back because he needed to keep his human within reach, it was imperative, instinctive.

"Can Uhura help with this?"

Spock looked up at Jim's face again at this, because he had not associated with Nyota in that manner for nearly six months and he had been certain Jim was aware. He shook his head mutely and watched, fascinated, as Jim nodded, that one he did when something he knew was confirmed as true, and a sort of satisfaction stole over Jim's face and through his body in the form of relaxation, perhaps a loss of tension. Strange.

"So, I have an idea."

Never a safe thing, in Spock's experience, but he was yet unable to do anything more than watch his Captain, his _t'hy'la_ , lay out yet another wild plan that was unexpectedly likely to succeed.

"You know the Enterprise is it for me, right? With the life we're going to have, it's unlikely that I'll ever be in one place long enough to establish, much less maintain, a relationship with anyone not on the ship. And there are only, like, two people on this ship that I _can_ have a relationship with, y'know?"

Spock could only nod, following the logic and knowing it was about as sound as a sieve but not quite able to identify the holes.

"You're also dedicated to the Enterprise and since – er, since you lost your fiancé and since things didn't work out with you and Uhura, you're also sort of at loose ends. And I'll bet you'd rather spend the rest of your life on the Enterprise than anywhere else. Right?"

Spock nodded again. More holes...

"So, we could team up."

Spock said, "Pardon?"

"Well, look, neither of us currently has a girlfriend, and I play all sides of the field." Jim smiled, blindingly. "And judging by the way you can't take your eyes off me, so do you."

Spock looked at innocent blue eyes; further – and as far as he was concerned, final - confirmation that something was afoot. Then his attention was diverted when Jim slowly licked his lips and drew his bottom lip in, scraping it against his upper teeth in a slow release that had Spock's respiration skyrocketing and his control fracturing.

"Jim..."

"Spock. We're already best friends. We both care about the Enterprise more than anything, and seriously, do you really want a partner you only get to see every seven years?"

There was something there that Spock knew was a hint, a clue to what was happening, but he was again distracted when Jim leaned forward eagerly, intently, putting both hands on Spock's knees. Spock glanced down at the contact, noticed the hand towel now covering one of his bared knees and couldn't stop himself from transferring his gaze directly to Jim's groin, to his erect penis. It was...perfect. Spock noticed his own increased respiration but couldn’t find the correct path to control it.

"Spock."

He looked up to meet blue, blue, blue.

"You may have noticed that I'm having a reaction to you."

"Ye- yes."

"It's the perfect solution. Us, together. We both get the Enterprise. You know I only have about two options here for a long term relationship, so this would be good for me, too. And I promise, you won't ever regret it."

 _There_ was the gap in logic. As much as Spock wanted to be on the Enterprise, he wanted Jim more. He would suffer Delta Vega for the rest of eternity if he could be with Jim, it was that simple.

"Jim, you should not settle for-"

"For what?" Jim's voice was suddenly hard, and his fingers tightened on Spock's knees with unexpected strength. "For someone I like and respect?"

"For someone you don't love." Jim released him and leaned back, hands on hips; possessive heat curled through Spock's hands at the distance, curving them into fists against his will when he forced himself to remain in position.

"Who said I don't love you?" Jim asked, his voice gone hard and his eyes suddenly just as intractable, sharp pieces of the deadly blue Delta Vega ice Spock had seen in Jim's mind in a previous meld.

It wasn't as though Spock thought Jim didn't love him, it was just the...type?...of love. Vulcans had very few words for love, while humans had so many words for so many different types and kinds and levels of love that even Spock was willing to admit difficulty in keeping them all straight – much less understanding them all.

"That way," was about all he could verbalize, and he was beyond thankful that Jim seemed to understand his intent.

Jim nodded, but his deadly expression didn't change one bit when he replied, "Does it matter?"

Spock opened his mouth to reply but his mind couldn't seem to catch up. Did it matter? He was sure it did. He loved Jim to the depths of his soul and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by Jim's side. But as much as he wanted Jim's happiness, he didn't want to force him into a lifelong bond he didn't choose freely.

"Spock. I want this. Does it really matter why?"

Heat and longing battered at his logic; this wholly beautiful human, his _t'hy'la_ , bared in so many ways and right within reach, offering himself. Offering life and a bond – Spock gasped at the physical wrench of that knowledge. It was unexpected enough to set him even further off kilter and he desired it so strongly that he feared a loss of control.

"Jim, you must..."

Jim leaned forward again, balanced himself on the fingertips of both hands and Spock shook from the effort to maintain control when Jim moved close enough to whisper right in Spock's ear, "I must what?"

"Jim."

"What, Spock? I must what? Let you fuck me?" Spock sucked air in a shocked gasp, inhaling Jim's arousal. "You like that, Spock? Can't you just picture me, all spread out just for you? Open and waiting, just for you?" Spock's entire body shook, his thought processes degenerating with every word, every warm breath against his neck. "I got ready for you, Spock. I prepared myself. That's what I was doing in the bathroom just a few minutes ago...spreading myself for you, only for you. Can you picture it?" Jim lowered his forehead briefly to Spock's shoulder, and while Spock watched his shoulders rise and fall faster with the force of his human emotion, Jim said, "Looks like you do like that thought. You want to fuck me, don't you?"

" _Jim_."

Jim lifted his head and spoke as he leaned back onto his heels again, his voice gone hard again. "I'm waiting for you."

Spock fought the draw, the peace he knew he would gain, the knowledge that he could end the ceaseless hammering of his instincts by burying himself, physically and mentally, in the willing body before him. He ground out the words he needed to say, had to say, knowing they were likely to lead to his death. "It would be...forever."

"You're dawdling."

Frustration lit hot and red behind Spock's eyes. "If you found someone else, you wouldn't. You couldn't – I couldn't let you. You wouldn't...I wouldn't _allow_ you." He stumbled over the concept of everlasting, unable to voice it in this moment. There was more. There was so much more he needed to tell Jim, to explain, but how, when it took everything he had not to ravage him, to take him now on the floor and damn the consequences?

Jim's response was to lick a wide, wet stripe up one of his own palms and then wrap that competent hand around his own penis and start stroking.

Spock thought that perhaps his heart stopped for approximately three point zero four seconds.

\-----

Kirk wondered for a brief moment if Spock was going to have a coronary, before Spock _finally_ accepted his offer.

Spock leaned forward and shoved him in the middle of the chest with both hands. Kirk yelped as he fell backwards, but then Spock pushed him the rest of the way down and was on top of him at the speed of light, and Kirk was not surprised to find that with Spock, speed did not indicate lack of control. He was flattened by Spock's weight, but never once did it become too much, or too heavy, or at all careless. It was mindful, measured; although he could sense the strain that caused Spock.

He immediately set about to make Spock lose control.

Grabbing Spock's face with both hands, he thought lustful thoughts as loud as he possibly could, rather enjoying the change from having to keep them completely contained. This close, he saw the impact when Spock's eyes dilated, and he got a terrific kick out of the sharp intake of breath Spock made, then the low growl. He pulled him in for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that quickly became a struggle for control that he was determined not to lose, but – _fuck_ , Spock could kiss.

It was as if once Spock's attention was focused somewhere, it got all of his attention.

Hot hot lips, perfect lips, lips Kirk had lusted after for years, covered his, fit his. Hot, unexpectedly rough Vulcan tongue slipped between his teeth and teased in and out until Kirk started sucking on it, using his own tongue to tease back. Spock pulled back, his teeth scraped over Kirk's bottom lip, tugged in a careful bite that sent his pulse skyrocketing and a shock straight to his dick. He groaned his approval and wrapped a leg around Spock's and used the leverage to push his hips against Spock's.

Spock pushed back, pressing Kirk against the deck and grinding down.

"Oh yeah, more," Kirk urged into Spock's ear. "That feels so good." He thought more lustful thoughts, thought about what Spock was going to do to him, what he was going to do to Spock, how much _fun_ they were going to have. "C'mon, _more_."

Kirk pulled Spock's hips against his with the hand that wasn't around the back of Spock's neck, and he bucked urgently against Spock's briefs. Which, no.

"Off," he ordered, while shoving at the waistband.

Spock complied, sitting up and removing briefs and robe before Kirk could make himself useful.

Kirk froze in sheer awe. Or lust. Spock was fucking gorgeous. Okay, that was established fact. New fact: _Spock's dick was fucking gorgeous_. Well, fine, that was an established fact also – they'd been naked in each other's presence too many times to count – but Kirk had never allowed himself to look. Spock's dick was a pale green that only barely registered as different from human-pink except at the head, where it was definitely a darker green. And, it was definitely hard and ready to go.

Also, it was appropriately aimed right at Kirk.

"Ohhhh, yeah!"

\-----

Spock paused, kneeling between his human's spread thighs, awash in the scent of his arousal, still stunned by Jim's unexpected and enthusiastic launch of... _this_.

He reached out slowly, touched cool human skin, Jim's thigh, delighted in Jim's responsive tightening under his touch. He couldn't miss the coinciding movement of Jim's penis, as it jerked also in response. Curious, interested, Spock moved his hand further up Jim's thigh, keeping the pressure at a level he knew Jim would interpret as 'light', until he reached the tender fold of skin between leg and groin, and rested his thumb against the tendon there.

Jim's hips bucked up and his head dropped to the floor, but when Spock met his eyes they were huge and dark with desire. Spock lowered his outer layer of shields and startled at the flood of desire and longing. His human hadn't been lying about that. It eased Spock's mind, that Jim truly wanted this. Reassured, Jim's clear approval of the situation providing Spock with a slight return in his ability to control himself, he set about bringing his mate to a loss of control – and the resultant mental receptiveness - that would ease the bonding between himself and a human.

\-----

Kirk shivered at the sudden look of intent on Spock's face. He had rarely been the focus of that look and it had always ended with him wrapped around Spock's little finger, but before he could even begin to reconsider what he had started, Spock's thumb slid from the crease of this thigh to his taint and pressed in, and _fuck_ , but didn’t that feel good.

\-----

Spock delighted in the small noise Jim made, the way his penis jerked, his legs twitched. He shifted his thumb, slightly up and pressing the underside of Jim's balls, and catalogued that response also.

It was a shock to realize that he felt physical and mental pleasure as he incited Jim's responses. His own penis seemed to require this from his _t'hy'la_ to remain hard; and the flood of psychic feedback from Jim went straight to the blood heat, both inflaming and focusing it.

Holding Jim's hips with both hands, Spock leaned forward and ran his tongue over the head of Jim's penis, holding him still against the now-expected twitch, soaking in the deluge of pleasure. He tightened his grip, then took Jim fully into his mouth with one downward plunge.

\-----

Kirk gasped and jerked when Spock practically swallowed him down in one move. Damp heat engulfed his cock, and he reached for Spock, grabbing a mixed bag of pointed ears and silky hair.

"Fuck, Spock, fuck, _shit_."

Spock's rough tongue dragged up the underside of his cock, then slowed as it curved up and over the head, and only Spock's hands and weight kept his body on the deck. He shivered when Spock pulled back and blew lightly, then swallowed him down again in a rush of heat.

"Ahh, fuuuuu..."

Spock pulled back, teased his slit before releasing him. He decided he couldn't complain when Spock pressed hot, wet lips to the sensitive skin near the bone of his hip, quickly followed by his tongue. The gentle friction sent shivers from his ass to his neck, a strangely erotic sensation he'd never felt before.

Spock growled, then bit the tender skin there, hard enough to sting and to mark. Kirk jumped, then stared down when Spock said in a low, rough voice, "You will not think of others."

"Shit, Spock, I wasn't, I was just thinking it was new. I like it."

Spock looked at him, narrowed his eyes. "You are still coherent."

Kirk raised his eyebrows back. "You planning to do something about that any time soon?"

\-----

In the grip of the red heat, Spock absorbed the challenge laid out by his mate and accepted it.

He released another level of his shields, determined to use every weapon he possessed to bring his mate to his knees.

Er...

Difficult to do when his mate was already laid out so beautifully across the deck. Also difficult to do when the flames of _pon farr_ were intent on hazing his mind. Spock stood and reached a hand down to Jim. He took it, and Spock pulled their bodies together, pressing his leg between Jim's, a hand at the base of Jim's spine pulling their hips close, the other curving around the back of Jim's neck and drawing him in for an exhaustive exploration of his mouth.

Jim groaned, kissed back with tongue and teeth, challenged Spock with every responsive movement, and wrapped his arms around Spock's torso and pulled them tight, chest to chest.

Spock traced Jim's lips with his tongue, biting the edges, sucking on his lower lip. He trailed small kisses across Jim's jaw, to his ear, sucking then biting his earlobe because he got the feedback for that, but then getting that much harder because Jim whimpered when he did it, so of course he did it again and again until Jim finally let his head fall back against Spock's hand on the back of his neck. Spock took advantage of that smooth expanse of skin, the muscled length of his neck, and gently bit his way to Jim's shoulder, laving each stinging bite as he went.

Jim rocked his hips slowly against Spock's thigh, his penis hard between their bodies, his emissions slicking their skin, scenting the air. The feel of Jim's testicles as he pushed into Spock, the unhurried roll across Spock's leg, was an enchanting distraction, drawing Spock's attention from the perfect hollow at the base of Jim's neck, away from the small noises Jim made, the half-words, the exhalations, the quiet, urgent oaths that, unexpectedly, served to further Spock's physical excitement.

The physical was a counterpoint to the constant flood of psychic tells. Each small bite, lick, nip, each and every touch, was echoed by a stream of approval, or a trickle of maybe, each response overlaying the previous, merging, until it became a bright, glorious deluge of erotic delight, until the physical and mental began to blend.

Moving his hand down, he cupped Jim's flawless buttock, squeezed, fingers brushing Jim's hole as he changed his grip. He returned his mouth to Jim's, because the noise that small contact drew from his mate nearly splintered his mind and he knew he just lost at least two more layers of shields but he still needed Jim to lose control before he did.

Spock walked Jim backwards through his quarters to his bed, slowly, enjoying in every slight friction of skin against skin, every gasp from Jim, every writhe, every tightening of the arms around him. By the time they got there he was supporting Jim's weight with the hand under his thigh and the other around his waist, both of those strong legs locked around Spock's hips. Spock's penis was hard, flat against his belly, trapped by Jim's genitals. The friction here was the most distracting, the most dangerous, but also the most pleasurable.

The golden skin within reach of Spock's mouth was easy prey, and he tasted and touched even as he lowered them to the bed. He focused in on a flat, brown nipple, alternating wet licks and careful scrapes of teeth until it was a hard nub and Jim was moaning, clinging to Spock's head with both hands, pushing up into his mouth.

He moved to Jim's other nipple, Jim's single, drawn-out inhale in the interim between one and the other so close to a desperate sob that Spock felt another shield dissolve.

"Spock," Jim whispered, and he easily felt Jim's difficulty in focusing hard enough to make sound. The pleasure from that knowledge dropped several more shields, and he was too close to losing control.

Spock fought back the red haze, pulled back from his mate, kneeled between his human's sprawled legs. Jim's body was fit, hard; he was a physical man, always touching or moving, talking or fighting, rarely still. Right now, he was nearly motionless. Only his blue eyes moved, glazed, but tracking Spock with a focus he shouldn't have been capable of.

Spock said, and his voice was rough, on the edge of control, even to his own ears, "Are you coherent?"

Jim nodded.

But he didn't speak.

Spock placed both open hands on Jim's thighs and felt the lie. He smiled.

Jim's eyes widened, Spock shifted his grip and pulled Jim sharply to him, sliding his buttocks against Spock's knees. He got the strangest flood of urgent, aroused yes from that, but it was merged with a thread of no in such a way that he couldn't separate them with the faculties currently at his disposal.

"Jim? Is this acceptable?"

Jim didn't move, but this time it was pure yes through his skin.

\-----

Kirk stared at Spock, trying to collect his scattered wits before Spock launched another salvo. Spock's skill at sex was wholly unexpected, a staggering miracle. He had gotten to do little more than kiss Spock but here he was, about to be fucked by Spock, his brain nearly melting out his ears.

Spock used the flat of one hand to push Kirk's balls up against his dick, then he simply stared at his exposed asshole. It should have made him uncomfortable, but the look of intent speculation on Spock's face only made his dick twitch under Spock's hand.

The intent speculation turned to satisfaction, and Spock looked up. "You prepared yourself well."

Okay. Well. Kirk flushed.

Spock leaned forward on his knees, not moving the hand on Kirk's balls at all, and cupped the side of Kirk's face. "I would like to initiate a light meld. When it is time, this will facilitate the bonding, if I am unable to...focus properly."

Kirk nodded assent. Where the hell was his voice? Was he that in awe of this version of Spock he'd never seen before?

Spock positioned his fingers in the familiar layout for a meld, and he welcomed the smooth, heated slide of Spock against his mind. Little more slick and searing than he was used to, lot more aggressive, but perfectly understandable under the circumstances.

Spock reflected amusement at the thought, but it was brief and shallow and quickly replaced by more of the erotic, possessive heat that seemed to be quickly taking over Kirk's mind. The link established, Spock dragged the pad of his thumb across Kirk's lower lip until he parted his lips, snapping lightly.

Open, came the command through the link.

He sent amused acknowledgment of Spock's strategy, and parted his teeth.

Spock pushed his thumb in, and sent another command: Suck.

Kirk's dick jumped. Why the _fuck_ was that so hot?

Now, came the immediate warning.

Warning? Really? But he sucked, licked, and for good measure he very gently bit. Spock removed his thumb and replaced it with two fingers. As soon as he started sucking again, Spock started pumping Kirk's dick with his other hand.

Kirk groaned and for a few moments he lost track of everything.

A sharp Do not stop brought him back.

He sucked, Spock stroked, and he decided this was his definition of paradise. Except he needed his hands on Spock.

"No," Spock said.

"Wha'?" he managed around his mouthful of Spock's fingers – since his mouth was already open... Even without the impediment that was about as much wording as he was capable of at the moment.

"Keep your hands where they are."

Currently curled around fistfuls of bedsheets.

"Borin'."

Spock got this aggressive look then that he had truly never seen on him and while it sent chills down his spine, he also swore his dick got about three points harder on the Mohs scale of hardness. "I will reward you if you obey."

He puzzled over that, trying to understand, until Spock helped his understanding.

"I will fuck you."

That was so...outside of anything he expected to hear from Spock and so frighteningly matched to his own – explicitly unstated – preferences, he completely gave up on verbalizing and simply thought, _I'm so fucked_.

Spock fractionally smiled again, beautiful and frightening, and pushed through the link, Be good.

He removed his fingers from Kirk's mouth, and Kirk tightened his fingers around the sheets.

Spock's elemental need for him to submit turned wordless – a constant heated mental pressure while Spock stopped stroking and flattened his hand on Kirk's hip. He pushed two wet fingers into Kirk's hole and pressed down, a deliberate, calculated and unremitting pressure that, combined with the mental pressure, would have caused Kirk to come instantly had Spock not thumbed hard into his taint at the same time.

Kirk inhaled, stiffened, and his body shook with need. Spock's presence in his mind became more insistent, more heated, it engulfed him without overpowering him, and when Spock removed his hands and Kirk still didn't come, when the need pushed him to the edge without pushing him over, he realized that Spock was doing something in the meld, somehow holding him back.

\----

When Jim realized he was using the meld to prevent him from orgasming, the effect of that knowledge was like lightning through Jim's mind, leaving a riot of incoherent desire in its wake.

Wanting Jim to remember this first time, wanting him to compare every future encounter to this one – in truth, knowing that this was forever, but not quite trusting that Jim understood - Spock gripped his hips and took Jim into his mouth again. This time he slid his lips down the length of him, tonguing as he went, and lost most of the last of his controls at the white hot flood of mindless pleasure he received in return, the wordless pleas for release.

Pushing two fingers back into Jim's slick and loosened hole, Spock pumped him and sucked him until even the silent begging stopped and Jim's mind was a tight, hot, narrowly-focused vortex of pleasure.

Easing back, he kept one hand around Jim's straining penis, stroked slowly, watched Jim's body, his face, memorizing the looks, the movements, the sounds. Jim was lost in pleasure, but he never lost his focus on Spock, never once.

Spock moved onto his hands and knees over Jim, watched his face, while he took a moment to wrap a hand around his own penis and move slowly up and down, spreading his own lubrication from under the head of his penis along his full length. Jim was panting, eyes half-closed with pleasure, the muscles of his shoulders and widespread arms clearly defined from his grip on the sheets.

His own hand was pleasurable as he made sure his penis was fully lubricated, but he knew that entering Jim's body would relegate even this pleasure to the status of something to be enjoyed, rather than something to be desired, pursued...coveted.

Spock mentally reinforced the command to Jim to keep his hands where they were. With his shields as destroyed as they now were, it wouldn't take more than a few touches from his t'hy'la to cause him to completely lose control. Once the meld was established it wouldn't matter, but until then he had to have control.

He hooked an arm under one of Jim's knees and pulled it up as he lowered his hips, nudged Jim's other leg aside and, trusting both of their efforts to prepare, he drove fully into Jim with one swift snap of his hips.

At the same instant, Spock's remaining shield fell apart and his mind drove into Jim's, searching, easily locating the internal meld points and locking into place in a shatteringly perfect fit.

Jim's full lips parted on a gasp that Spock heard only in the meld, his eyes went wide, his body arched from the dual shock of the invasion of his body and his mind.

The ease and accord of the connection was more than he expected, more than he thought they could be; Jim offered no resistance, hid _nothing_...

The restraints he had placed on Jim's ability to come were destroyed with his last shield, and the effect was almost immediate.

Spock moved his hips again, pulling nearly out, desired Jim's touch, pushed in, clenched his teeth against the sudden explosive pleasure of Jim's orgasm, against the devastating beauty of an already attractive human as he went rigid with bliss, because he had to see this, to remember this.

He wouldn't remember much of the next few days, but he had to remember this. He had to remember Jim's first orgasm with him, his reaction to the meld, his eager welcome of Spock's body into his own. He _would_ remember the sound of Jim's shocked but pleased groans, the sight of his brilliant eyes widening as they locked on Spock's throughout, the hard tension of his body under Spock's, the throbbing of Jim's penis between their stomachs, the hot splash of Jim's ejaculate, slick and pungent between their bodies.

As he surged out and in, again and again, as Jim's arms came around him and he moved under Spock, drew him closer, pulled him harder both physically and mentally and did his own share of taking, as the fires of _pon farr_ finally overcame him, Spock's last conscious thought for the next three days was a shock of perception and understanding.

\-----

Jim was gone from the bed when Spock finally awoke, the worst of the fire purged from his body. Lingering heat still demanded his mate's presence, but it was manageable even with his internal controls destroyed.

Spock mentally poked at their settling bond, much the same way he had poked at a loose tooth as a child.

"I'm here," Jim called from the outer room.

That was good. Spock might not have been able to manage the impulse to retrieve his mate were he not in quarters.

He pushed himself upright and surveyed the wreckage of his sleeping alcove. Bed coverings were piled on the floor; one sheet was bunched up under his body on the mattress, but the bed was not properly made. Empty (!) bottles and tubes of lubrication were everywhere he looked, and the smell that hung in the air was a sharp remnant of their bodies and activities.

His body ached when he got to his feet, but he could move without impediment. Certain his robe was in the main living area, he carefully walked out there, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of Jim, wearing only a pair of Spock's sleep pants, lounging on the couch and reading from a padd.

Fire licked at the back of his mind, threatening him with _taketaketake_ , but that too was manageable now. Somewhat.

Jim looked up from the padd, met Spock's gaze, then glanced down at Spock's groin and smiled wickedly. "Ready for another round?"

"I- I believe I would prefer to wash first." His voice was rough, his throat sore, and he didn't think it was from disuse.

Jim's smile didn't falter when he responded, "Need help?"

"Yes."

Jim cajoled him into a water shower and Spock had to admit to a certain fascination with the activity – when undertaken with Jim. He could think of no other motivator strong enough to get him in there.

Spock took the time to watch the water move on Jim's skin, watch where and how it traveled, highlighting this or that muscle or curve of skin. The marks of _pon farr_ were also there, a darkening litter of bruises that spoke of a violent possession.

Jim wanted to touch and Spock wanted to look. Spock at moments had to hold him in place so he could watch, allowing the remnants of driving need to take over, but when Jim finally pushed Spock's hands away firmly and kissed him, cool hands bracketing Spock's face, he gave in to the touching.

Minutes later, one brief, unintended brush against tender skin told him Jim needed a break.

\-----

Kirk couldn't stop the brief wince that Spock's fingertips across his hole caused, and by the very slight widening of Spock's eyes he knew the burn had transmitted through the wide open bond.

He felt Spock's brief flare of heated satisfaction, understood that it came from the remnants of _pon farr_ , before it was overtaken by guilt that he had harmed Kirk. "It's ok," he whispered. "I'm ok. I don't break that easily." Although he was exhausted, he wasn't broken.

Spock shook his head, his meaning unclear, but his hands gentled, barely touching as they grazed Kirk's body. His lips against Kirk's shoulder were soft, careful and warm; the loving reverence overtook everything else in the meld.

Kirk shot back some caring of his own, then focused on the sensation of touching Spock. He'd waited so long for this, the ability to openly touch, not having to hide his own reaction, and he wanted to enjoy every second. This time their lovemaking was a slow slide of skin against skin, gentle friction that didn't hurt, lazy, unhurried movements.

It was a complete departure from the uncontrolled frenzy of the last few days. Spock had run the show, hadn't allowed a single argument from him, fiercely and even, a few times, violently, demanded and took what _pon farr_ dictated. Still, he'd never deliberately set out to hurt Kirk, and had, in fact, eased off the few times he had, when he'd felt Kirk's pain in the meld. He'd never believed Spock would intentionally hurt him and the new knowledge that Spock could and would fight even the hot driving need of _pon farr_ to keep from hurting him solidified that trust.

Spock eased him back against one wall of the shower cubicle, hands still gentle, persuasive now rather than demanding. Kirk returned every caress with single-minded devotion – until Spock kneeled right in front of him.

He barely got his mouth open to ask what Spock had in mind before the heat of Spock's mouth engulfed his dick. His question turned to a pleased gasp, then he buried his hands in Spock's hair and let Spock's hands on his hips support his weight.

"Fuck, Spock. That's so good, don't stop, don't stop..."

Spock didn't stop, although he did take his time.

Kirk's orgasm was an easy flood of warmth through his tired body, the gentleness of it a pleasant contrast to the last three days. Spock swallowed everything, tonguing softly until Kirk's knees gave out. Spock eased him down in small increments, kissing his body as it passed his reach, until they landed in a tangle on the floor of the shower.

\-----

A lot happened over the next five days.

McCoy insisted on giving both of them a full medical exam. Spock didn't see the point, but he submitted when Jim finally leveled an exasperated demand for reciprocity at him after McCoy managed to corral him for his exam.

Spock learned that Jim had managed to get to the comm at some point during those three days to request more lube from McCoy. That had repercussions all of its own; ones Spock was certain were likely to endure for years.

When Jim brought up the topic of their living situation, Spock refused to negotiate; they were going to live together, wherever they were and whatever that meant. Jim assented with a gleam in his eyes that gave Spock pause, but he still held firm. They decided that, for now, they would live in Spock's quarters and use Jim's quarters as their workspace.

Spock discovered the dubious joy of sharing living quarters with Jim. He wasn't particularly messy, but neither was he neat. He rarely left dirty clothing on the floor, but his desk was perpetually covered with seemingly disorganized stacks of padds, parts and tools from whatever personal experiments he was working on, and the occasional article of clothing...thrown there when one of them decided it was time to stop working.

Near the end of those five days, after five days of regular meditation, he began the work of rebuilding his shields – this time with Jim on the inside. An endless underpinning of love was threaded through every thought that came from his t'hy'la. It was a warm counterpoint to Jim's every word, every action, every look, every thought, and Spock basked shamelessly in the feeling. He knew that his own regard for Jim was also evident within the meld, and he hoped it also was outside.

He slowly regained a few scattered memories of his time, probably all he would ever have. Jim remembered most of it and had shared a few of what he referred to as his "favorite" moments, but there was no way Spock would ever have any comprehensive sense of what had taken place.

He did, however, eventually remember their first time.

\-----

Spock approached Jim while he was working at his desk. Jim looked up from the jumble of parts he was poking at and smiled brilliantly. His delight in Spock's presence echoed through the meld.

"You lied."

He sensed Jim's resignation before it was locked down, even though his smile didn't change – much - on the surface. He had familiarity with this ability from a working perspective, but now he was also learning it from a personal perspective: Jim could hold a perfectly genuine-seeming smile in the worst of situations. Although, he had already learned the difference between the two. He had also taught Jim that lock-down technique just the day before, after he realized that Jim's nearly endless lust was acting to significantly distract Spock from any of his intended activities. In spite of his sense of betrayal by Jim, it was oddly painful that he actually used it.

"About what?"

"Your intentions."

"About what?"

"About...this. Us."

"Can you be more specific?"

Spock felt his eyebrows draw down before he stopped himself. "You were not truthful-"

"Spock." Jim stood, the smile fading. Inexplicably, Spock felt a sense of loss. It had not taken him long at all to grow accustomed to the frequency of Jim's smiles, so different from the ones he distributed outside their quarters without restraint. Jim remained behind his desk, fingertips tapping briefly on the top while he thought. "Precisely; what did I lie about?"

"Your feelings."

"Please be more precise." Jim's voice was hard, but his distress was leaking through the bond now, his ability to shield still new and...imperfect. Spock thought that perhaps he was missing something, some key fact.

"You indicated that you did not love me. That way."

"Ah, but I never said it."

"You led me to believe-"

Jim laughed, incredulously. "Would you have believed me if I told you I loved you? That I've been in love with you for over a year now? That I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you by my side? Would you have given me the time of day? Would you have taken this chance?"

"I-"

"No. You wouldn't. You would have thought I was lying, and you wouldn't have thought I knew what I was getting into. You would have shoved me right out of your quarters and done that martyr thing you do so well."

"I would not have thought you were lying."

Jim shook his head. "At the very least, you wouldn't have trusted that I knew what I was doing."

Spock had to be honest with himself, with them. "No."

Jim nodded. "That's why I let you think what you wanted."

"You misled me."

Jim folded his arms across his chest and scowled, irritation punching new holes through his shielding. "Is it that big of a tragedy or are you just butt hurt because I tricked you into bonding with me?"

"Butt h- I- What if I had not returned your feelings?"

"From my perspective, Spock, your options were to die, or to be bonded for life to someone who loved you enough for the both of us. I'm sorry if I forced you to live against your will but I wasn't willing to give you up, and especially for such a stupid reason."

Spock fell silent. Everything Jim said was true. Spock would not have believed him, would not have taken the chance. He could have accepted being bonded to someone he knew did not love him, but to be given the hope that the man he loved with every part of his soul loved him back, and then find out after bonding that it was not true, he couldn't have borne that pain.

Jim added, "You could barely speak, but when you were more concerned about me being bonded to someone I didn't love, than the possibility of the same happening to you, I figured it was a safe bet on my part."

Spock would not have taken that bet.

And yet, Jim had.

Jim had taken that chance for both of them.

"Spock, if you want to break the bond, I won't- I won't prevent it." The endless black pain of just that possibility brought down the remainder of Jim's effort at shielding and it nearly broke Spock's heart.

"Jim."

"Spock?"

"I apologize."

"For what?"

"For doubting you." After a moment of stuttering disbelief, Jim's mind settled, cautiously hopeful once again. It was like a roller coaster for Spock, and he wasn't sure it was something he could fully appreciate. In the future, he would have to prevent this sort of distress from happening to his mate – either from himself or from others.

"Apology accepted."

Spock watched Jim, who watched him back, arms still folded across his chest, eyes still – once again – chips of Delta Vega ice. He said tentatively, "I have heard of a custom that humans engage in after resolving a disagreement."

Jim stared at him for several seconds, then his blue eyes warmed with amusement, the edges of his mouth curved up, his delight sparked through their minds. "You mean 'kiss and make up'?"

"That is the one."

Jim grinned. "Would you like to engage in that custom?"

"I would."

Jim spread his hands wide. "I'm waiting for you."


End file.
